


Thief's Gold

by hakaibunshi



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Thiefshipping, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25851142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakaibunshi/pseuds/hakaibunshi
Summary: Marik needs a way close to the Pharaoh. His target: Ryou Bakura.He thought the sweet boy would be an easy target.However, a far greater spirit intercepts and offers a trade instead - a deal of sorts.An alley could prove helpful, so he listens.But his potential partner in crime turns out to be a thief, his eyes already set on the prize.
Relationships: Yami Bakura/Marik Ishtar
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Thief's Gold

Marik opened his eyes, scrunching them up immediately, the sun above much brighter than anticipated. Quite certainly this was a _whole_ world apart from what he had expected to find. For a moment he just stood there and challenged his breathing to the densely heated air. His fingers clenched around the Millennium Rod. A sense of danger lingered.

Carefully he placed his right foot in front of his left. The ground felt solid. He went on, slowly, full of suspicion. Like a leopard he prowled forward, the sand beneath him caressing his naked feet. Realizing that he wasn't wearing his shoes, once again set off an alarm that was hard to ignore. But he was here for a reason. And he was determined to find the boy and put him to use as a pawn in his game against the cursed pharaoh. It would be a piece of cake to get close to him, using one of his precious friends. And after observing them for a while he had found _this one_ to be gullible enough to serve as an easy target.

Unbeknownst to him that what he had entered was not the soul room of Ryou Bakura.

He went a little further, his steps growing more confident as he walked on. He had taken over the minds of so many people in the past years, but this was astonishing. Never before had he seen something quite as marvelous as the view that stretched itself out before him; what should by all means be a mere collection of teenage memories between tokens of a suitably flat personality, was like a great, endless floor instead, solitude reaching into what he judged to be an oasis far in the distance. Some countless stone pillars to his left and right darted into the sky above, it's light still so blinding that it was hard to tell if there was even an end to them. As he walked on, statues appeared between the pillars; statues and stone walls, showing him familiar things. Faces of gods and kings and mythical beasts. All too common for his eyes - not naturally common to some Japanese high school kid.

Marik went on. Without being able to pin the exact moment, his surroundings had started to shape into a building, saved it's sealing, and the firmament above stretched so far it made what he knew as the sky seem close to the ground.

What fine trickery this was...

He needed to find the boy, otherwise he would not be able to take control over his body.

Usually it was a process of seconds, but he felt as if he had wandered through this scenery for too long already. His legs felt heavy and if he didn't know better he would say there was sweat running down his back, causing his shirt to melt into his skin. Soul rooms were not constructed of real things. So the heat he felt and the exhaustion were not real either, he knew that, but it worried him that he wasn't able to shake them off despite that knowledge.

Noises started to form either around or inside of him. There was a crackling, similar to the sound of bonfire. The tension in the air was unbearable but his curiosity got the better of him. Every step brought him closer to a point of no return as an irresistible pull forced him onwards.

Steam, lifting itself off the ground, skewed his view and soaked the air in lavender and.... perhaps rose, he wasn't sure. All around him the sound of tripping water. There were no sounds of animals or even his own footsteps but from the way the water moved around in his ears, he understood that there was someone with him now. Anticipation forced a smile onto his face, relieved that his search had come to an end. The alleviation did not last for long, before he grew wary again: The presence was intimidating, as much as he hated to admit it to himself.   
Out in the physical world, Ryou Bakura was like a mouse, a little fragile thing, asking to be hunted by a predator. How was it possible for the likes of him to create a vision like this?

"Why so cautious?"  
Marik shuddered, as the low voice pierced him from no one clear direction. Goosebumps marked the skin on his arms and his pulse intensified, he tried to swallow but dryness clogged his throat.

"Go on, come closer. I ain't biting."

Like a deer in headlights he had been standing still but started to sneak forward then, guided by this intone. And although he tried his hardest to tiptoe, for whatever reason now every step he took left a hollow noise, tapping on wet stone.

As he carefully sat one foot before the other, attempting to make out his surroundings through the steam, he tripped into nothingness and fell. A shock ran through his body, he held his breath so as not to shout out in surprise, while his attempt to hold on to something, anything around him, failed, and he slipped off a tiled curve before getting swallowed by hot water. Undeterred by the knowledge that it was impossible for him to physically drown here, he whirled his arms around in the water, trying to get a hold of himself.

After a few seconds of disorientation, he found top and bottom, managed to feel ground beneath his feet and pushed himself out of the flood. As he darted up, catching a big gulp of air, laughter rang in his ears; and the steam cleared just enough for him to lay eyes upon a figure at the very end of the visible room.

Feeling dizzy from the heat, it took him another moment before he fully retained all senses, holding himself up by the rim of a giant bath. He coughed more water out of his burning lungs and waited for his breathing to stabilize. Light headed he worried he could lose consciousness. But he'd be damned to give up now.

He wiped his face with his palm and shot an agitated glance across the water, straight towards the back.  
The room had shrunk. Marik was anew shocked by how powerful the kid was, being able to freely manipulate his soul room like that.

His body was submerged in the water, his arms stretched out onto the rim tiles. But it _wasn't_ that kid, was it?   
Marik peered across the water. No, it was him. He was just... different.

"Marik Ishtar... is it? You sure took your time. I've been waiting for you to try your thing."

Marik frowned. Who the hell was this guy?   
He stared at him but struggled to make out clear features. His appearance was fluid. It kept shifting ever so slightly with each attempt to focus on it. Was there a scar in his face... or not? Was it just shadow? He seemed skinny, then muscular the very next moment. His skin tone made him look oriental just like himself, but then a second later he almost seemed ghostly, his pale skin reflecting the shimmers of the water below. His white hair, though it appeared gray in some instances, reached down to his chest, the ends fell into the water, building a floating crown around his body. He was naked. A detail that had almost escaped Marik because his entire body was buried under broad jeweled collars, golden chains and rings. He saw amulets, ancient Egyptian ornaments of glass, stones and metal. Earrings, necklaces, bracelets, rings around his fingers.

Marik reached out, without even noticing his own action at first, and softly ran his fingertips across the strings of beads inside the collar. Having no recollection of wading through the water over to Bakura by himself, he gave up on making sense of this room. Either _he_ was able to shift it to his liking or it was changing even without his intent all together. Or perhaps it was Marik who was placed around within it like a puppet.

The thought made him growl inside, deeply uncomfortable but unable to oversee the irony given his own agenda. The jewels felt heavy in his hands, like a burden. But Bakura seemed not to be bothered by them in the slightest.

He forced himself to remember that this was not real.

"Ryou... Bakura?" He took his gaze off the dazzle to look Bakura in the eyes.   
He gaped into madness, or perhaps just a flicker of rage, gone as fast as it had surfaced and Marik dismissed it as just another oddity.

"... you are a long way from where you want to be if you are looking for him."  
Marik frowned and bit his lip, catching the sweet taste of oiled water.

"Who are you?"  
"I have no name of my own, but I am the king of thieves."  
he wheezed at the expression. "I hate kings...."

For the first time, the other showed signs of movement, leaning forward just a little bit, carefully inspecting Marik's face. He was a fly in a spider's net, and he didn't like it much. His reflection in the icy stare felt like watching himself _through_ the other, altogether a most haunting encounter that left a taste of adoration that didn't come from within him but from within the other.

A beautiful boy. Scented in freedom long taken away. His eyes were of extraordinary color, like amethyst. Framed by black kohl. Make up redolent of people who the thief didn't quite remember but still felt drawn to. Golden earrings complimented the dark complexion and ashy blond hair. He was pleased just to look at the grave keeper who, so foolishly, had come to take him over.

"Hate ...ain't enough. Surely _you_ understand that. So rather than hating them... I made it my goal to become the greatest one of all of 'em. Taking away everything they horde. Be it things. Or power. Or status. Or privileges."  
He made a gesture as if to show off himself and the area around them.

"What's it worth? This isn't real." Although his presence was indeed quite forceful, Marik had managed to gather his thoughts back together. He didn't feel as worried anymore. Didn't feel so barren before a bigger, unidentifiable power.   
"Oh, it'll be", he chuckled.

Bakura's foot crawled up against his calve like a lizard. Because he was standing in water, his trousers were clenched around his legs, stuck like a second skin but much less comfortable. It stopped, the leg retreated and Bakura fully let go of the wall behind him, his hands reached out, grabbed Marik by the waistband and pulled him close, swiftly switching their positions, pushing him against the warm stone.

"It's time we made a deal, Marik Ishtar."

The way Bakura kept saying his name was enticing. There seemed to be some significance attached to it, something bigger than a name.

The dizziness came back and Marik considered breaking out; maybe this wasn't worth it. He was worried about what would happen to him if he stayed. At the same time he realized that he had found something long believed forever lost to him: dread. And the heart beat that came with the thrill. Everything cruel had already been done to him so there had been no place for fear anymore in his life. But this person made him shudder. And as sinister as it felt, it was charming all the same.

"I did not come here to make a deal with the likes of you", he whispered. His eyelids grew heavier.

"No. You sure didn't."

Cold hands slid down along the sides of Marik's legs, and as they reached the end of his upper thighs, he grabbed them and lifted him up, halfway out the water; allowing cool air to run over his nape and down his back; but he was still drenched in heat.

Perforce he placed his hands on Bakura's shoulders to steady himself. He met that ravenous gaze once more and understood there was no turning back. Within, he was shaking, praying it didn't translate outwards. "But I know why ya here. And this body is all yours, I'll make sure of it. Use it for whatever fib you are planning, I only care for one thing..."

Not entirely sure yet what he was after, he emerged himself into the thought of taking this bone that was thrown towards him. If it meant taking over Ryou Bakura, that should be enough for him. Nothing was too far to reach his goal, even if it was a deal with the devil.

"You'll surrender the Millennium rod. Otherwise I have my means to take it by force."  
There was no doubt he had. Marik flinched. It bothered him a great deal to be underestimated like this. In aid of his pride he would have preferred to leave and dispose of the boy right away, asserting just how little he really needed him - as if he could not have gone and taken over any of the other peasant friends. However - the prospekt of having this guy actually turning himself over willingly made him think twice about it. Beside, the forsaken millennium item was a simple wager to make. Marik couldn't care less for the cursed thing.

"I have no use for it once the Pharaoh is dead." Certainly those eyes that were eating away at him lustfully had very little to do with his decision.

Bakura sat Marik down on the wet brim, his hands still grabbing his thighs while Marik's legs let go of the torso he had been clenching tightly.

The thief's slender fingers trailed along Marik's body, up his chest and towards his shoulders, across his collarbones and stretched over his neck where they finally found naked skin, the tips of his fingers touching his earlobes. Marik's inside was struck by lightning as the sound of Bakura's rings against his earrings looped through his ears. He felt the sun burning in his back.

He went on to softly touch his face, uncovering an assumed line from Marik's eye along his cheek, down to his chin.

"You are very beautiful, Marik Ishtar."  
Never had he felt so detached from his own name. Bakura was invoking something whenever he said these words. Paired with the rattling of the stones and chains around his body caused by his movements and the water it was a marvelous, enchanting sound. As much as he knew he was being preyed on, he glimpsed at a wondrous obedience, a grounded desire to please the thief. And he did not understand where it came from and didn't like it one bit.

Seated above water, he became strangely aware of himself before the other. His shape, framed by the sunlight, his clothes stuck to his body, showing off the outlines of his muscles, the light movement of his chest, caused by his excited breathing. He saw all of it through the look of the other. Mesmerized by this image of himself, he hopped off the rim, back into the water. The warmth welcomed him.

Bakura's fingers grabbed his hair behind the ear and gently pulled it. Marik, who had already left very little space between them, now felt the naked hips pressed against his own, and - suddenly fazed - became curiously aware of their situation as if it had not occurred to him until now what was about to transpire.

The thief, a slave to his proclaimed profession, was by nature lusting for all that was brilliant and shiny and desirable. And Marik felt helpless against the authority within this gaze of such desire. There was a fire lit inside it and a thirst so intense, he surrendered, completely accepting he would not be let go before it was quenched. He pushed forward just a little bit more, closing the gap between them. No point in reminding himself that all this was just happening in their minds. 

He had no idea what he was doing, not a single second of his life so far had been wasted on things like this. But his body seemed to move on instinct from here on - driven by the greed of the other, not his own. Bakura's right hand sank under water and before Marik could process or anticipate the next move, he felt the stroke against his erection. Untried as he was, he experienced a surge of panic.

Everything inside of him screamed flight but his feet were stuck to the ground, his chest was tight, longing to give more, so much so that it was agonizing. Bakura's fingers started to skillfully, slowly, open the buckle of his belt like he would pick locks for gold.

Their faces were so close now, their locked eyes separated and Marik watched Bakura lowering his lids, for the first time letting his eyes out his sight, that had so bewitched him. Upset by this betrayal he gasped but his complaint was asphyxiated promptly, his first kiss a bombshell explosion unearthing the treasure he had become.

It came as a sincere and completely natural reaction to this, that immediately his lips parted ever so slightly, allowing their tongues to touch, which was strange only for a brief moment, before he caught a barely audible moan, unable to pinpoint it to either one of them; but just the idea of it originating in the other flushed yet another wave of heat through his entire body and he found himself getting used to the pleasure. Eagerly responding to the kiss, he fancied to reclaim some dominance.

Through tiny slits between his eyelids he watched whatever he could see of the other face as it was so close up; the shadows on his skin that - beyond a doubt now - was pale to the point of transparency. It was scary but at the same time the contrast to his own dark skin made him shiver. It was eccentric and beautiful; indeed, as if he was the crown jewel in the king's collection.

Bakura's teeth bit into his lower lip and again, he had this rush of being attacked but at the same time wanted him to go further than that. He was bewildered by his own inability to come to terms with the spiel he found himself entangled in. He was unstable.

Against his will, Marik closed his eyes and immediately felt closer to the kiss, moved his own tongue and lips with more awareness, exploring the feeling that was all over him. His skin was nothing but receptors, taking in every little bit Bakura gave away; the kiss, the intense grabs, the legs pushing between his own, fingers in his hair, on his neck, his chest, his crotch. He hadn't known - and never thought about - that he could feel so good on someone else. Without comprehending it, his hands started copying the other's action, he felt up the side of his naked upper body. About to dig his fingers into the skin of Bakura's back he suddenly pulled away, leaving an abrasive sense of something missing. Confused, Marik searched for an explanation. Bakura grabbed his arms. His strict and assertive expression ordered him to keep his hands to himself.

Unable to understand a sensation of discomfort came over him. Once more, he acknowledged to himself what was happening between them and how it was not at all what he had come here to do.

Around him the soul room started to change, too, he noticed.

"Look at me". He chose to comply, though his face portrait anger instead of obedience. Bakura didn't care. As soon as he had confirmed his attention, he let go of Marik's wrists and started to slowly open his top, first undoing the ornamental golden chains, then unzipping it from top to bottom. He slipped it off, letting it sink into the water but left the golden arm rings and necklace where they were.

Marik shivered and this time it wasn't from excitement. Within the last couple minutes the bath had run cold, and the lights had faded around them. He tried to focus on the noises, but there was nothing but their own movements in the water and his heartbeat. However, the whole room was pulsating. He needed to leave right now. He closed his eyes, trying to find his own mind.

"Not so fast, Marik Ishtar."

Affectionately, Bakura placed his hands around his neck and it called him back to the moment. Was he unable to get out? Distracted by this thought - unnerved because this had never happened before - he itched to escape the thief's touch. His gentle hands were a trap. He was kissed again. Marik felt like melting into the other, felt a sense of submission that was so strong it threatened his sanity. How was such a manipulation even possible.

His hands let go of his neck and brushed across his exposed chest. He felt the twitching inside his body, the blood pumping through his erection. The rings around Bakura's fingers amplified his touch, more than necessary; just like the jewels and chains which got trapped between their bodies as Bakura pushed against him, felt erotic to him, perhaps because they were the only thing separating the two from each other and they weren't really a separation at all. Maybe because he was so strangely alike to them, as if he, too, was a rare metal on his skin.

He had no idea what his role was in this game. He did not know what he was supposed to do or what exactly would happen now, he got the hunch that the little theoretical knowledge he possessed about this, was inapplicable because Bakura was a man and the thought threw him off and into a loop that didn't present any solution. Of course he didn't exactly get much time to dwell on this matter. Bakura's kisses on his neck, his teeth gently nipping his skin, his fingers pressing into it, it all was a grand distraction, he didn't even know anymore what he had come here to do.  
Unexplainable by reason he, being caught in this situation, felt like a god on his own, worshiped by this King of thieves and he got high on that perception quickly.

Bakura nonchalantly caressed his nipple, which triggered a moan and whether that was out of surprise or pleasure he couldn't tell, but it startled him so much that he raised his hands, covering his face. He wasn't used to being out of control of himself, not in this way at least. Besides being very young still, having lived a life of abstinence until now, he had not known how sensitive he was to the touch of another but at the same time he also tried to convince himself that it might not even be his actual own feeling. Maybe this was just how powerful this spirit was - being able to project his own demeanor onto Marik while he was inside his soul room. How much of all this was really his own brain's doing? What did that matter in the end. 

Bakura sank further down into the water until it covered his shoulders. His tongue brushed over the tight muscles covering Marik's abdomen, while his hands were resting on his lower back. He was so flustered, automatically his hands reached for the white haired head below his chest, but he stopped himself, recalling the dirty look he had been given the last time he tried to touch the other. Not exactly sure, why that alone was enough to put him in his place, he retracted and placed his palms on the rim behind him instead. Bakura pulled himself up just a little and without so much as a glimpse toward Marik's face, he kissed a spot just below his chest, before he teased him further, tracing his areola with his tongue. This time Marik was somewhat primed. He bit his lower lip, anticipating the sensation. His muscles tensed. Playfully, Bakura licked and carefully bit one nipple while his fingers caressed the other. Marik didn't know what to do with himself. His whole body was on fire. He wanted to move but felt locked in place. His fingers pushed so hard into the rim tiles that his knuckles hurt. He wanted to engage, wanted to touch, but felt it wasn't right to do, though he didn't understand why.

"I-" Within the blink of an eye, Bakura had risen up, his hand covered Marik's mouth. And, coming full circle, their eyes locked onto each other once again. And that very moment Marik learned that the miracle lay within the way Bakura looked at him - he had been watched by many others in his short life, but no one had ever looked at him like this, nor did he believe that he himself had ever looked at someone else with eyes like that.

Bakura, who had come yet a little bit closer, lifted his hand. Gently he nibbled on his ear, which sent shivers down Marik's spine. He then whispered to him, his breath a soft stroke in Marik's ear.

"You'll get what _you_ want: a way close to the Pharaoh and his friends." He pulled away a bit, but his hands stayed, playing with his hair. "But you are underestimating his gang. Your acting ain't gonna convince anyone", he continued but interrupted himself, biting the neck right under Marik's ear. "I on the other hand... already got a ticket to that adorable fan club of his, so leave it up to me-", again, he paused, placing a kiss onto Marki's temple, brushing his hair behind his ear. His fingernails left a tingling sensation. "-to get you close to him."

Marik listened as carefully as possible; he caught himself giving into the sensation rather than the words as he closed his eyes but pulled himself back quickly.

"All _you_ gotta do is pay what you have offered. And I'd be delighted to lend you my host."

His host?

Marik finally began to get a hunch of what was going on here. He had assumed it was a case of a fractured personality or something but this made sense. He wasn't the boy at all but another spirit entirely. Bakura combed through his hair again, gazing upon Marik's face, seemingly finished talking or at least committed not to give further explanations. Marik was so angry now. Here he was, as close as never before to his great mission in life, and all he longed for was a kiss. He carefully, barely at all, moved his head toward the other, paying very close attention to the look on his face, wondering if he would oppose again.

To his surprise, Bakura mirrored his move but instead of kissing him, he gently rested his forehead on Marik's, their eyes so close it strained them to keep looking. He had just committed and was ready to continue whatever they had started, when Bakura smiled cruelly and snapped his finger behind Marik's ear, the noise so deafening and so utterly unexpected that he flinched.

He covered his ears.

"What in the-". Irritated and livid, he looked up, his brows contracted, and bewildered for a moment, stared into a cold, naked wall. He gasped for air, the millennium rod slid out of his hands, dropping to the ground behind him. Quickly understanding that he was in the back alley into which he had followed Bakura earlier, he let his legs become weak and sunk to the floor.

He had locked him out, that god damned poltergeist! Dismayed by this - yet again something that he had never thought possible - he wanted to scream in frustration. Not admitting to himself that there were other thoughts fueling this fury beside his inability to manipulate the boy as he had so many others before.

Within just mere seconds his body was flooded by such vast emotion, he was afraid it would burst. The anger was above all, but there was also embarrassment, self hatred, disappointment and a leftover notion of dread. And then there was, underneath all of that, the desire. He collapsed against the wall behind him, immediately recalling the rim tiles pushing against his back. Frustrated he slammed his fist into the ground, not feeling the pain but wishing he would. Wishing it would overtone the somatic memory of the thief's hands all over him.

It was impossible to keep his face from contracting in revulsion as he saw his own erection, clearly showing through his trousers. He felt so, so close to losing control; his hands were shaking, his temples hurting. He grabbed the rod. His fist clenched the forsaken thing so tightly that his own nails pushed into the palm of his hand.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and focused on the world around him until the pulsing quieted. It would be alright. Bakura might have messed with him, but he would still be useful. Marik was pretty sure that at least he had been serious about the rod. Whatever the reason, he clearly wanted it. Marik would have to be careful about him, but he would not let this get in the way of his plans. He would use Bakura to get close to the Pharaoh. He would get his revenge. And once it was all done, maybe he would use the rod one last time to stick it through Bakura's cursed thoat, see how he would like it then.

The thought of that seemed to finally calm him down. He let his head fall against the cool stone behind and smelled the dirty air of the city around him. Yes... this was real.  
This was better.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and Thank you so much for reading my story! 
> 
> I would love to post more in the future. English is not my native language so I would really love to find someone who is open to beta-reading or even help with editing !
> 
> If you are interested, or if you know someone who might be, please feel free to contact me =)
> 
> Thank you again, I hope you enjoyed and that I will see you again in the future~  
> A continuation of this work is already in progress.


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